


That's Great!

by HeadphonesOn



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: "Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol", Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Cute, Dirty Talk, Eiffel is a dork, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hera is also a dork, Hera is good, I muse about Cutters voice for a while, I tried with pop culture references, I'm Sorry, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Pop Culture, Robot/Human Relationships, Smut, Stressed Eiffel, Voice Kink, What am I doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadphonesOn/pseuds/HeadphonesOn
Summary: Set after the live show "Deep Space Survival Procedure and Protocol", Eiffel has a resurgence of a certain flame. Hera reacts in an unexpected way.(Unexpected to Eiffel, that is- you know what you clicked on.)





	That's Great!

**Author's Note:**

> This is all new to me. I just love Eiffel and Hera's relationship and I thought they deserved more fanfics.

Somehow, days on the Hephaestus were both too long and too eventful. And oh boy, had today been no different. Eiffel couldn't shake the nervous energy still coursing through his veins after the crew's talk with Cutter. As if royally screwing the crew over wasn't bad enough, Eiffel had also been left with a horrible uncomfortableness after the personal chat. Eiffel hadn't had too many meetings with the Big Bad and the ones he had had been mainly short and to the point. This time had been a little different, a little...unnerving. It had been a while since anyone had called him Doug, and he was pretty sure he hadn't been called any nicknames since he was a kid. What grown man gets called Douggie Boy? And as if Cutter's terms of endangerment weren't weird enough, his entire manner fit the theme. Even through audio Eiffel could vividly imagine Cutter smiling down at him. How could someone be too close for comfort with just a voice? An overly sweet, very friendly, very condescending voice. Eiffel needed to sleep off the feeling it left.

He had called it a night fairly early, brushing off a couple jobs and forgoing a cup of gnarly space ingredient coffee. He floated to his bunk and quickly got in bed. He quietly hummed, one of the classical pieces played through the space transmissions, and wrapped a blanket around himself.

"Hera, are you there?" he called out, cozying into the pillow. A static-y sound followed.

"You know, Officer Eiffel, there is no point in even asking," came Hera's reply, "I'm always there. I'm always everywhere."

"Always in my heart."

"That I wouldn't know."

Flirting jokingly(jokingly?) with an AI unit was a good use of time, quickly calming him down. The eerie velvet-toned voice of a certain bureaucrat seemed further away.

"Aw, baby, I've made it pretty clear. You totally know."

"You say all sorts of things, most of them incoherent. I'm not sure what I know when it comes to you."

Sleep was for the weak. Eiffel pulled himself upright, propped on the pillow and loosened the blankets a little.

"I have very coherent speechifying, thank you very much. I've just got appreciation for the phrases conned by the greats."

"And those greats are?"

"Roddenberry. Whedon. Groening. Many, many more."

"Humans are so weird."

"We're fun and quirky, that's for sure."

Eiffel was appreciating the chat without his superior stick-up-the-ass commander, shorter-stick-but-still-up-the-ass captain, and Bond villain scientist listening in. One little problem, though. A certain flame had decided to spontaneously revive. The most embarrassing flame. It had been smothered by stress and a lack of time to think on it, but it was back with a vengeance.

"You more than most."

Yup. That was it. Eiffel definitely was pining after the goddamned spaceship brain. If it wasn't weird enough to be in love with someone who was technically a robot and had no body, it was also incredibly unprofessional and totally impossible. A smarter man would have known that flirting was a Bad Idea.

But this was Doug Eiffel. And Doug Eiffel put Bad Ideas in his morning coffee.

"Well, of course. You're the funnest and quirkiest AI I know, though that isn't saying a ton."

"That's saying next to nothing, Officer Eiffel. You've never met another AI."

"Yeah, well I'm sure if I did happen to come across one, it'd be second best in the Eiffel scoresheet."

"Is that right?"

"Correctamundo. Love you, Hera."

Shoot. The word slipped out. The L word. The one that wasn't "lesbian" and the one that definitely wasn't meant to be said. Eiffel forced his face to compose itself and acted as chill as he could. He leaned back against the pillow and hoped that Hera took it in stride. But a slightly static silence filled the room and Eiffel held back a groan. What did Hera think? What would a spaceship think of someone being in love with her? Was she weirded out? Would she be disgusted that a squishy carbon-based life form would feel that way about her? Or what if she took it as a joke, an Eiffel word vomit? That seemed like such a better option, but it also seemed sad. Unrequited crushes were one thing, but unrequited crushes on a person you literally can't escape is another.

A static pop broke the silence.

"I...love you too, Officer Eiffel."

What. Eiffel's eyes widened. She loved him? She loved him back? But then the context came back to him. She was just continuing the flirting. The fun, friendly, completely platonic, human-to-robot flirting.

"Aww, am I your favorite fragile squishy crewmember?"

"Yes."

Eiffel was at a loss. That had been a glitch-less, automatic response, and a serious one, breaking the playful tone. Eiffel, feeling a little more than awkward, freed himself from the constricting blankets and started to float around the room. He looked around the barren bunk for Hera's speaker, quickly finding it half hidden behind a poster. If the conversation was going to turn more personal, he wanted to talk to her more directly.

"Thanks?"

"Did you mean it?"

"The thanks?"

"When you said you love me. Did you mean it?" Hera sounded shaky even by her standards. "I mean, love as in, uh, not like family or friends. I know there are a lot of kinds of love, humans have made a bunch of subcategories and the word 'love' can signify the way someone feels about...a sister, or a dog, or chocolate. I hope you, I mean, I'd assume you love me in the sense one loves a longtime friend, but I-"

"You mean romance love?" Eiffel made himself spit out, trying to save Hera from her own downward spiral of words.

"...Yes. Is that what you meant?"

The flame in Eiffel's chest was dancing, but the nerves from earlier had built back up. He started to miss the discomfort of Mr. Cutter's chat compared to the confession he had to now make.

"Yup."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

"So you meant it too? The whole "eros" love, to quote the...the..."

"The Greeks. But yes."

"That's great!"

Eiffel tried to remember how he'd reacted to these situations in the past. He vaguely remembered kissing Kate after they exchanged the big L word. That was not going to work in this instance. Hera had no mouth, let alone physical form. He could kiss a wall?

"So." Hera sounded happy, but very, very unsure.

"So." Eiffel was debating how embarrassing kissing a wall was.

"I- oh, I am so sorry! You were going to sleep!"

"Nah, I can sleep whenever," Eiffel said, floating around the speaker, "I prefer you."

"But you really can't sleep whenever. Minkovski wants you to update the star ch-"

"If you say 'star charts', you will see a grown man cry."

"I've seen you cry before, Officer Eiffel. It's not that big a threat."

"You said you loved me, I'd hope you wouldn't want the person you loved to cry."

"Well..."

"Well?"

"Of course I wouldn't want you hurt or miserable. But...you crying for less-bad reasons isn't a bad image..."

Eiffel's eyes widened. That turn had been unexpected, to say the least. Suddenly, he crashed into a wall. Head spinning, he turned around to realize that in his shock, he'd unknowingly shot across the room and into the wall. The sound of Hera's laughter echoed off the walls.

"Goddamn, Hera. I didn't read you as a kinky type. Or really a sexual type at all, you know?"

"Because I don't have a body?"

"Well, yeah. You don't have the hormone mumbo-jumbo that makes humans all-"

"But the main sexual organ is the brain. Which I have in spare."

"Huh," Eiffel remarked, his own brain throwing out some fun ideas, "I really should have assumed."

Eiffel finally got over himself and floated his way through the air and towards the wall with the speaker. When he got close enough, he grabbed onto the edges of it and pressed a quick kiss to the wall nearest it.

"What was that supposed to be?" Hera sounded confused yet amused.

"A kiss?"

"I don't have sensors, you know. I can't feel anything you do."

"Thought that counts, Hera. It's the thought that counts." To prove his point, Eiffel ran his hand up the speaker in a slow, seductive motion.

"It's- It's a shame I can't feel."

"I know," Eiffel replied, tracing the speaker with a fingertip, "This would be way more productive, not to sound like GI Jane the Commander."

"Please don't bring up Minkovski while you do that."

"Do what?" Eiffel played coy as he nuzzled the wall. If Day One Eiffel could see where he was now.

"I have an idea," Hera announced, sounding pleased with herself and like she had a devilish plan. Eiffel was reminded of Mr. Cutter's plotting voice from earlier that day. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and stomped on it with heavy-soled boots.

"Do tell!"

"Welllll," Hera drew out the word, making Eiffel squirm, "I can't feel what you're doing, but you could."

A jolt of excitement shot through the Comms Officer, making Hera's idea seem even better. And, yes, the awkwardness of getting down and dirty with someone watching didn't pass him by. But there was something comforting about the voyeur in question being a being with no physical form. A voice seemed much less judgmental then a face, somehow. And it was Hera, the person he loved. Who loved him. Loved. The giddiness over that word was helping too.

"I think a particular sexy robot girl just came up with the plan of the year."

Hera giggled. "Tell her hello for me."

Eiffel steadied himself against the corner under the speaker and got to work taking off his flightsuit. The Hephaestus standardized uniform was built to cover as much as it could and be tight-fitting and flexible. It was a pain to get off. Luckily, Eiffel was a rebel and wore it tied around his waist to show off his t-shirt collection, making the whole thing easier to take off. Eiffel slipped the flightsuit down just low enough to reveal his pair of Goddard-approve boxers. His dick was already pushing against the drab fabric. Almost shaking with anticipation, Eiffel tipped his head back and pressed his hand to the tented fabric. He managed to keep in a moan, until he heard Hera's static gasp. Egged on by the sexiest AI in history, Eiffel grabbed his dick through the fabric and slowly pumped his hand. It had been too long since he'd done this. He stopped trying to silence himself and his whines started to join Hera's sharp breaths. Hera breathed? But Eiffel pushed the thought away. It was unimportant, so unimportant, compared to the feeling of his hand around his cock.

"What are you thinking of, Officer Eiffel?"

Well, he had been thinking of the idea of AIs breathing, but Hera's sweet voice was suddenly the only thing he could concentrate on.

"You," Eiffel breathed.

"Well," Hera said, trying to sound composed but letting a hint of excitement shine through, "If you're thinking of me, maybe you could try to give me a better show."

Eiffel wanted her to keep talking forever, and his dick agreed, twitching in his hand. By Hera's instruction, he shoved both his flightsuit and boxers down to his knees and grabbed his hard and now bare dick. The effect was immediate. Pleasure shot up and down his body, and he started to move his hand again. He arched his back and bit his lip hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Hera had wanted to see him cry, after all.

A static moan crackled through the room and god, had Eiffel never heard a better sound. Hera sounded like she was having an even better time than him.

"Keep- keep going," she demanded.

"Only if you keep talking, baby," Eiffel replied through gritted teeth, "I just wanna hear your voice."

Eiffel's hand was slowly becoming slick with precome and the movements were becoming easier and sloppier. He was almost painfully hard.

"You like my voice, do you, Officer Eiffel?" Eiffel moaned in response.

"You like it when I say your name, don't you? Is it being called 'Officer' that does it for you? Or is it the sound of your name in my voice?"

It was both, mainly the latter, but Eiffel was too lost in pleasure to make the distinction. He just wanted to hear the flirty, light tones of Hera's voice. He could practically feel her just by listening. Imagine her hands, if she had them, on his shoulders, tracing up his neck, down his chest, stroking him.

"You're so desperate, just from my voice. Just listening to me. You love this, don't you?" Hera chided in the best way imaginable.

Eiffel's breath caught as he came, Hera's words ringing in his ears as his body tensed. He felt himself shudder as he floated backwards in bliss. Hera made a quiet sound of approval.

"That was amazing, Officer Eiffel."

"You're telling me?" Eiffel asked, coming down from the high. He haphazardly pulled up his flightsuit and tied it back into place before grabbing a dirty t-shirt from his laundry bin and cleaning all...bodily fluids from the air. Zero-gravity had its drawbacks.

"You know, this is really not how I expected tonight to go," Eiffel said as he threw the shirt back into the laundry bin, "I thought I was just going to sleep off the stress of almost dooming us with Mr. Terrifying Name our boss."

"Was this better?"

"Of course. I mean, the orgasm- damn. I needed that. But that was only a tiny part of it."

"You're talking about the love thing."

"Of course I'm talking about the love thing, what did you think I meant, the talking about star charts?'

"You know, you still have to do those tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

Eiffel pushed himself towards his bed and climbed in, wrapping the blankets around himself like a cocoon. He lay back, staring up at the ceiling and turning to the speaker. He felt his eyelids droop. It had been a long, weird day.

"Goodnight, Hera."

"Goodnight, Officer Eiffel."

"Love you."

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> So! That was that! I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
